


Magic

by Oienel



Series: Magic Series [1]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Biology, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, Science, Science Experiments, Strip Tease, Strippers & Strip Clubs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-15 02:59:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9215672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oienel/pseuds/Oienel
Summary: To make your best friend's birthday memorable your squad decides to hire strippers for her. The only problem is, one of them becomes your lab partner.





	

**Author's Note:**

> That is the worst summary I've ever written, but ok. It's part of a series inspired by Magic Mike. First posted on tumblr.  
> This piece was the first of the series, but on ao3 I posted Sehun's first - Fabled.

I think you also have this kind of friend. You know, the one that is so kinky that sometimes she leaves you speechless. The one that sees and hears innuendos everywhere. And if you don’t seem to understand the pain of having such friend, there is a great chance that you are that friend.

This type of personality has one great advantage in terms of maintaining friendship – it’s always easy to buy a gag present for this friend. Dildo, sexy dies or things looking like genitalia. It’s obvious and repetitive, but she would laugh anyway and once again proclaim you the best friends she have.  
But this year your squad has outdid themselves.

The music is thumping loudly and you have to flatten yourself on the wall, because the group of drunk students run past you, nearly trampling everybody on their way in the process. There is a bottle of beer in your hand, but you can clearly see the bottom of the glass vessel and you again try to reach the kitchen (you were on your way, when the stampede interfered).

The term has ended and you start the long-awaited break with a birthday party of your best friend.

Yet again you are stopped, when your friend – the birthday girl – tries to strangle you in a very loving way.

"How’s party?" She screams in your ear. The music, is loud, yes, but not loud enough to explain her voice's volume. But the tequila shots from before could.   
"Yup, but I need another beer!" You tell her and she laughs and pushes you in the direction of the bathroom. You sigh, but obediently go there – one does not simply argue with a drunken host. But to your surprise the bathroom is still clean, and the tube is filled with cans and bottles of beer and, what you suspect, cold water.

You confirm it when you fish out a bottle and open it on the edge of the sink.  
Ups. Maybe you are more drunk then you realized. You bend down to check if you chipped off white ceramics, but it looks intact. You can’t inspect further, because somebody opens the door and screams something unintelligible.  
You spin around and see another one of your friends. She looks hazed and you suspect that somebody brought more to the party than alcohol. She grabs your hand and repeats what she said earlier.

"They are here! Come, come!" Now you know that she is not hazed because of the drugs.

You follow her to the living room and you stop at the door. Your friend sneaks herself into the room and settles down on the sofa’s armrest next to the birthday girl. The room is full of girls – mostly from your dorm. You remember half by name, tops. There are around thirty girls in the room, but strangely enough they are gathered under the walls, bottles and cans in their hands and the excitement is almost palatable ad they stare at the center of their ring.  
There are two cops standing. Uniforms, hats, batons, handcuffs, sunglasses and sexy smirks – all on point. You cringe a bit, but after all you paid for this.   
Yup, this is birthday present for your friend.

You can tell that is going to be magical as girls are on the verge of pissing themselves (they are drunk, mind you) and nothing has happened yet.

"Ladies, is everybody of age there?" One of them ask, and his only answer is a collective scream coming from thirty throats.

"I thought so, but I’m sorry, we’ll have to check anyway." The same one follows. He is tall, and slender, but you can tell that he is toned underneath the uniform. His voice is nice and smooth. He is clearly modulating it to make sure, that it goes to every girl’s pants.

The group of guys from your labs stops by you to check what is the commotion all about, but you wave them off dismissively – it’s unlikely that they will enjoy the show.

"Who is a host?" The guy ask and your friend on the armrest discreetly points to the birthday girl.

The second guy is taller and paler than the first one and he walks to birthday girl and helps to her feet. He shows her at the wall and speaks up for the first time.

"Can you please spread your legs for me, ma’am." Girls scream and whistle. Your eyes catch the eyes of your friend on the armrest and you both roll your eyes. It was taken straight from the Magic Mike.

You look back to the center of the room as the music blares again and you think that the other guy is eyeing you. You look at him, but his head is turned to the pair.   
You shrug.

The taller cop starts dancing slowly. Sensually. And then he lifts her up and her legs are on his shoulders and you are amazed with the strength he possesses. He didn’t look this capable. Your friend is screaming and laughing and she is clearly enjoying herself.

Hell, if your boyfriend had done something like this you’d make him breakfast to the bed for the whole week.

The tall cop is working those hips of his as he slides down to the floor and he lays down your friend and you are captivated by the full body wave that follows. He looks nearly fluid as he dances (or more like ruts) on top of her.

You shake your head and drink from your bottle. You didn’t know that this would be so enthralling and you are shocked. You hear ruckus behind you and look back to find the group of your male friends moving the table – probably to play beer pong. You consider joining them, because the truth be told, you are quite embarrassed.

But before you can decide there is a tap on your shoulder and the other cop is at your side with an extended hand.

Oh, crap.

The girls are shouting their encouragements and behind him you can see your friend being dry humped on the floor.

You are too surprised to react (and you still toss around the thought of escaping), but he doesn’t dwell on this and simply takes your hand.

You look him in the eyes and despite the sunglasses you see him looking smug, as if he was mocking you.

You are taken aback, but nonetheless he leads you to the center of the room and just as another songs goes on he starts dancing around you. You allow him to manhandle you around, because he is amazing dancer. You can give him that. His moves are smooth, and yet sharp when it’s needed.

You wouldn’t ever admit that with the way he moves between your legs, you wouldn’t say him no.

It rubs you the wrong way, because you still can’t understand the face he made before "making love" to you on the floor.

You are on the floor next to your friend and both Chippendales are dancing in time with each other. Yours is supporting himself on your bent legs and so is his partner (but with your friend's knees). His hips are taken straight from hell as he does a wave after wave. The girls are screaming and hooting, and you are getting hot under the collar. And when the beat drops, the pandemonium breaks out, because they tear apart their shirts, buttons popping and dropping everywhere.

You find yourself face to face with an absolutely amazing, chocolate abs. Your eyes slide up his body nearly against your will, and yet again you see this mocking smirk on his face.

And something snaps inside you, but at this moment the song ends and the guys are awarded with deafening applause. You scramble to your feet, seeing in the corner of your eye that the other cop is preparing for the next song, and your not-so-friendly one leads your friend to her seat. You walk out from the room, grabbing your beer from one of the girls and join the guys on the other end of the hallway.

"Not enjoying yourself?" One asks as soon as he sees you.

"Not really." You answer with the shrug and move to cheer on the guy this the ball in his hand.

*

Your friends talk about the strippers for weeks. You are actually thankful for being away for the whole break – the swooning on the group chat is already hard to take. Thanks to their constant commentary you know everything what happened after you left the room. It their words is a lot, but in fact it’s only more and more dancing.

You are looking forward new term and new things to gossip about, as the ‘Kai&Kid’ (that’s what your friends call them) has been already exploited to the full.

Your term starts with physics lab. You like physics labs more than chemistry labs, simply because for the physics’ you don’t need as much protective equipment. Actually getting hair out of the way is usually enough.

Assistant shows you your station and you go through equipment to check whether you have everything you need to carry out today’s experiment. You are not surprised to find that you were given resistor with resistance too high for your circuit.

You change it at assistants’ desk and when you come back to your station your lab partner is already there. A lot depends on your lab partner. If you can hit it off it’s easier and more fun to work together. It also gets you better grades. You wish that this term you get the partner with a knowledge, at least, matching yours.

You sit on the other side of your station.

"We were given wrong resistor, but I just exchanged it – I’m not slacking off!"

You start in the playful tone, and introduce yourself.

You see him smiling under his nose and he lift his head.

‘Jongin.’ He replies and extends his hand.

And at this moment the reality downs on you. And you see that he also recognizes you, as he slowly withdraws his hand.

His hair is not styled up and he is wearing round glasses (very Harry Potter if somebody were to ask you). His body is hidden underneath light sweater, but you know that you are staring at the guy that dry humped you a month ago.

And you paid for that.

*

‘Right.’ He says slowly. You don’t want him to talk. At all.

You are embarrassed and it’s downing on you that you’ll have to work with him the rest of the term- which have just barely started.

You stare at him suspiciously and you can say that it disturbs him. He looks out of place, suddenly, even though his glasses are perfect for your current environment. And that irritates you, because irrationally you feel guilty for putting him in this position. So you back up your altitude.

And as if he saw an opening – he attacks. Mercilessly like a haunted animal, which saw their chance to escape. He leans across the table, his chest nearly brushing the electrical generator and his eyes seem animalistic, just like during that night.

Oh, for fuck’s sake, these fucking glasses!

"Did you like me rutting all over you?" He ask, his voice sultry. Your eyebrows raise.

"Woah. When you channel your stripper inner face, you turn into a fuckboy."

He withdraws and slouches on the chair, arms crossed, and exhales annoyed. You can’t decide what have gotten to him, _fuckboy_ or _stripper_. But the silence that follows is definitely uncomfortable.

You are first to busy yourself with the experiment and Jongin (that was his name, right?) begrudgingly follows. You work mostly in silence, save for the moments when you need to write down the measurements. His voice is detached and strictly professional when he dictates you the numbers.

But both of you still eye each other cautiously, and if you saw a pair that stiff around each other, you’d have a field day teasing them about their clear discomfort. But when it was you suffering it wasn’t as fun.

When you are done with the experiment, there is still time left, so he very politely asks you for the measurements and you work the rest of the class in undisturbed silence, calculating and estimating measurements.

When assistant signs you that the labs has ended, he is out of the door in mere seconds and you don’t even have time to call him.

What about report?

You don’t see him for the rest of the week. That’s good. The bad part about this – you don’t know how to contact him about report, which you have to submit during next physics’ labs.

Which makes you furious, as you have to write it on your own.

But your friends have brilliant plans for you.

They all ride your dorm room where you are harassing excel sheets to calculate measurement uncertainties. It's a pain in the ass, and you don’t want to do this. At the same time you want to end it quickly so you can forget about the circuts, resistors, currents and all of that and just relax.

So you are not exactly friendly when your friends propose a girls’ night out.

‘Oh, c’mon! It’s be great!’ One cajoles. ‘Look!’

She shoves you a poster in the face and you begrudgingly take it to read. It’s black with a photo of a few soldiers on in the middle. Before you can say something, the kinky one points at the photo.

‘Look! Look at them!’ So you look. They are all handsome and it sparks the suspicion. You scan their faces looking for a certain person, and as you guessed there he is in the middle with aviator sunglasses. He is annoyingly handsome. Right next to him is the other one from the party. You study his face – it’s weirdly flat, but still handsome. He is taller than Jongin and definitely paler. You take your time to look at every guy on the photo and you are surprised to realize that you know another one. The smaller one with big eyes took mechanics with you.

The Strippers’ Show. Great.

"No." You say firmly. "I’m not going."

They whine to you for another half an hour but you are strong in your resolution and they don’t success in swaying you.

Next time he is first at your table. You are filled with annoyance from the first sight of the back of his head. The girls snapped you every thirty seconds during the show and came back with a firm resolution to see them again and information that the guys (strippers) study at your uni.

Well, that’s new.

You slide onto your seat, trying your best not to remember what is hidden beneath his clothes. He acknowledged you with a rise of eyes, nothing more. You pull out the folder with the report from your bag and only then you realize that he has a report in his hands – he is reading it.

"So I guess you had a time to write the report – with the stripper job on the side." He looks up quickly, but you don’t give him the time to retort. "I also wrote one. Let’s check whose work os better."

And you throw him your papers while taking his out of his hands. You are surprised when he doesn’t protest.

In terms of calculations and  graphs his work is definitely better, which you find with a drop of jealousy. But your conclusion is way better and the overall look of the paper is more clean and easy to follow.

If you worked together it would be a hell of a paper.

He clears his throat.

"I think that today we should use mine. You fucked up with calculating uncertainties and they won’t let it pass." You nod and he is clearly surprised. "But, eh, let’s… What about… Why don’t we…"

You look at him biting back the laugh. And this shy waffle is a stripper.

"Next time you do the calculating and graphing, and you send this to me – I’ll do the rest. "

The gratitude in his eyes nearly knocked you out.

"Yeah, that would be great."

This time you are measuring viscosity and there is an awful lot of glycerin involved. Actually a whole pipe of it. It doesn’t look bad, right? You have to time the fall of the small sphere in the glycerin filled pipe. No harm. But every time you have to fish out the sphere and it involves sticking a head into a jar filled with sticky suspension to rummage for minute metallic ball.

The first time you have to do it, you whine disgruntled the whole time and when you finally catch the ball you throw it on the paper towel and run to clean your hand.

When you come back, Jongin has already moved on with the experiment, but when he sees you he starts laughing.

"Your disgusted face was so precious!" He says as he bends over to write down the time of the fall. You don’t look at his ass.

Not even for a second.

You grab the timer from where he left it on the table and stand on the step next to pipe.

"Oh, really? Then you take it out this time. I’ll be measuring time." He laughs again and crouches to stick his hand in the jar. He quickly pulls out the ball and you are distracted by his long fingers, now glistening form glycerin. Your brain is not helping at all, as it helpfully brings out the information that glycerin is used in producing lubricants and is used to preserve sperm.

"Are you ready?" He asks and you panic, before you understand that he wants to throw the ball into the pipe and he wants you to measure its fall. You nod and follow the ball as it slides down the pipe. You remember to turn on timer when the ball reaches the point where it moves with the constant speed.

"So, I assume you were at our last show?" He asks shyly, as you watch the ball falling into a jar. You risk a quick sideway glance at him, but he looks straight ahead. His cheeks are tinted red.

"Oh, no. My friends went, but I’m not really into this kind of entertainment." You don’t add that he was the main reason for you not to go.

"Right. You showed your disgust at your friend’s birthday." He says and this time it is your turn to blush.

"I wasn’t disgusted, I was…" But you don’t have another words to describe it. The truth is you were disgusted by the whole ordeal.

He looks at you, his eyebrows high, as if you were proving his point. Which, unfortunately, you were.

He doesn’t say another word and prompts you to do the same as he throws the ball into the pipe and you hurry to wipe out previous record on the timer.  
The rest of the labs pass in silence.  He looks offended and you find yourself needing to cheer him up – but at the same time you remember how he behaved last time and it cools you down.

It’s kind of amazing. The fact that he can be so different. It’s like looking at the walking Copenhagen Interpretation. Jongin, like every physical system, does not have definite properties prior to being experimented upon – which means that like infamous Schrödinger’s Cat (before one opens the box the cat is both dead and alive and only checking upon him allows us to determine his state) only after seeing Jongin in a particular moment you can tell whether Kai (which as you realized is his stripper’s name) or Jongin is driving him.

You’ve just compared your labs’ partner to the quantum mechanics theory. You groan internally at yourself and shake the thought out of your head. There are limits, even among physicists. You can go around and treat everything as an experiment.

"Could you give me your email address?" He ask when you return the equipment to the assistant. "I’ll send you my part by Saturday."

"Oh, right." You scramble to fish out the scrap of paper and you write down your email. He takes it from you and leaves without farewell.

*

True to his word there is an email with his part of the report waiting for you in your inbox on the Friday evening. His doc is unnaturally clean and clear, and you suspect that he put in extra work so you wouldn’t get a chance to complain.

Working with records prepared this way is a pleasure and you quickly put together your report and send it back to him, when you are done. This way he can check it, before you submit it. In spite of yourself you find weird the fact that his email is his name and surname, and not something connected to his line of work.

Then you scoff at yourself for being stupid. Firstly: it’s not like he goes around saying that he works as a stripper, obviously he wouldn’t have an email address advertising it. Secondly: every student gets an email address on uni’s servers and since it’s a strictly academic matter it’s normal to use your student’s mail.  
You’d do the same. Why would he be different?

_Because he is a stripper._ The voice in your head supplies helpfully.

And that gets you thinking. Why he is a stripper? The first reason is obvious – of course for money. Every job is because of money. But at the same time, he is studying in your field. You don’t know what his exact major is, but he is taking physics’ labs, so obviously it is either scientific or engineering career.   
But that means he is smart. You know he is smart, you just worked his calculation into spot on report. And you didn’t even check his results, you just knew they are correct.

So why choose the striptease? Maybe it’s his way of picking up girls.

Suddenly there is Jongin-the-shy-waffle before your eyes and you shake your head. No point in dwelling on something you can’t solve.

*

Your friends once again try to take you out. Since this time they are offering a night at the club and you are feeling lame enough for using Friday evening to write a report, they are more successful than the last time. Among ringing laughter and gossiping, you and your friends prepare to head out. It’s not like you do a lot. Just enough make-up to tell the world that yes, you have make-up on, and clothes comfortable, but your _dress to impress_ is enough to get you into a club.

It’s not like you couldn’t do more. But why bother. It’s not like you are going there to actually impress somebody.

Your favorite club is on the campus, between the dorms and the shops. Good place to do a quick before and head inside. But this time you drink your first beer in the dorms and from there, happy, you go to the club, with your friends at your side. You meet other girls heading out and all of you go together, high heels ringing on the pavement with a laughter thrown in between as a coma.

Club is like every other. There is a dance floor, a DJ, bar, smoke, music too loud to enjoy and hectoliters of alcohol. The venue is packed, but it’s no surprise. Friday night, right.

Quick shots at the bar and then you are off for the dance floor. Dancing in the sweaty crowd is not something you’ll put on your list of favorite pastimes, but you are just barely tipsy and it helps you to get through with it.

Dancing is easy. The sway of your hips comes naturally and here you are having fun and throwing your hands up in the air. You dance freely: just to have fun, not to seduce. You don’t throw your hair over your shoulder every fifteen seconds. You brush it off your face when it falls down on your eyes from all that shaking and jumping you do.

And yet there are hands on your hips and turn around to find yourself face to face, or more like face to chest with an awfully tall guy. You can see your friends in the corner of your eye, getting ready to pull you from his embrace. That’s what you do. If you are out on the girls’ night and some guy starts bothering one of you, you are have signs of distress to show to the others. It’s enough to get you rescued in mere seconds.

You decide in the blink of the eye, that today you are in the mood for a dance with a handsome stranger and wave a hand dismissingly behind your back. You are surprised to notice the smile of the guy getting a notch brighter as if he knew that you just told your friends that you want to be touched by this guy.  
It makes you realize that he was ready to give you space if you didn’t want to play around with him. You smile and he doesn’t pull you closer. You are pleasantly surprised when he moves his hands from your hips and takes your hands and starts dancing with you. There is a lot of swirling around and every now and then you run into somebody. There is not enough of space for you to dance like this, but the enthusiasm he radiates is so viral, that you can’t bring yourself to care.

By the fifth song you have to rest so you stop midstep and he looks at you surprised and his smile falters a little. You point in direction of the bar. He grabs your hand a leads you through a crowded club. Your friends disappeared earlier.

He offers to buy you a drink and you consider it for a moment, but decide against. You had fun while dancing, but you don’t want to show him that you are ready for something more. Or whatever he would conclude from that. You both buy a shot and a beer. You drink your immediately and pours his into a beer and you look at him surprised. The grin he sends you is disarming. Away from the dance floor and the red lights he looks younger and more familiar. No one looks familiar on the dance floor, but still you try to remember where could have you seen him.

He tries to tell you something, but the music is too loud, and in this exact moment a group of girls decide to push themselves past you and you spill a little of your beer. You shoot them an annoyed glare, but before you can do more he grabs you and leads away from the bar and the dance floor. As the volume of the music gets lower, he says to you:

"We have a table, so if you don’t mind..." You shake your head and look around. Maybe you’ll see your friends?

He leads you to booths section and you hope that he wasn’t talking about the most packed one.

Of course he was.

The group is playing some kind of drinking game involving a lot of hand movements and as you observe, a lot of shouting and pointing. The people at the table are definitely lively. There are around of ten people and you spot two girls. They are sitting next to each other and look used to the chaos that plays just before their eyes. You assume that they are the girlfriends of the guys on their sides. Your assumptions are confirmed when apparently one of the boyfriends loses and the pair have to do mouth-to-mouth love shot.

At this point you finally reach the booth and your companion starts shouting and behaving rather loudly as the whole group moves to make space for you to sit. You obediently slide down on the bench and the guy slides after you. You put your beer on the table and look up.

To find Jongin staring at you with an expressionless face. On his left there is that pale and tall kid – the other cop. You don’t need to look at every face to know that you are sitting at the strippers table. And that the guy who brought you, is as well a stripper. That why he looked familiar - you saw him on the poster week ago. Which makes you wonder what the girls thought about this.

The girl that didn’t have to drink last round ask over the table for your name. You introduce yourself, but she doesn’t hear. So she asks again, and before you can answer Jongin supplies the answer.

And you’d prefer he didn’t. There is an excited ruckus as they talk on over another to make Jongin tell from where he knows you.

"Shut it!" Says the guy that had to drink the love shot. He then proceeds to introduce everyone at the table.

So the guy you were dancing with is Chanyeol (good to know his name), on your left there is Minseok, next to him is the guy that introduced everyone, probably the leader or something, Junmyeon, his girlfriend, and then the girl that asked for your name – the girlfriend of the guy named Baekhyun. Next to Baekhyun sits Yixing (the guy looked kind of stoned, but you can’t be sure), Kyungsoo (the guy that took mechanics with you), Jongin, Sehun(so apparently his stripper name is ‘Kid’?) and Jongdae.

After the introductions the guys rule that the drinking game is needed to break the ice. Playing with them is a ridiculous experience as they argue all the time.

Right now both Chanyeol and Jongdae are standing and disputing lively which of them have lost and at the first sight the poor guy is being towered by Chanyeol, but the way he behaves make it difficult to tell which one is being bullied there.

The other guys are actively cheering on – never actually showing which one they root for. You look away from them and Baekhyun’s girl catches your eye. She shrugs as if to tell you that this is normal and your only option is to wait it out.

But the other girl wants to grill you.

"Ok, so where do you know Kjongin from?" She asks with a stutter.

"Kjongin?" You repeat amused. You realize that she's tried to say Kai and decided to change it to Jongin. Which means she knows about their night job.

"Jongin, I’m sorry, I have a cough." She says and coughs in her fist, looking sideways to the other girl. You bite back a laugh.

"We are partners on the physics’ labs." You answer and look at the person in question.

He is not looking at you, but the guy next to him, the Kid, what was his name…? Seho? Sehun? Sehyun? He is staring at you with unusual intensity. It puts you off and you stare back at him, waiting for him to drop his eyes.

But he doesn’t.

And then his face relaxes as his eyes grow bigger. He claps his hands and points at you:

"Ah! You are the girl, that Jongin took for a first dance on the birthday gig we did month and a half ago!"

*

The next thing that happens is a _fucking_ pandemonium. And you can’t really get why. Why would it be such a big deal?

But here they are: the whole table hooting, and shouting, and laughing, and Jongin shoving Seh-something’s head into the wood, and the slow slide down that Chanyeol does next to you. He behaves as if he was disappointed and betrayed, and you still don’t know why.

The whole thing is getting ridiculous and you feel like you’ll suffocate if you don’t escape this madness. But there is a sulking guy in your way and Junmyeon’s girlfriend is calling your name.

"So how was that?" She asks with a wiggle of eyebrows and you feel cornered. This question effectively silences the crowd and everybody is looking at you.

"What?" You ask more to give yourself time, then to hear the question again. You know what she is talking about. You take sip of your beer, trying to see Jongin eyes, but he is looking at his own hands.

"How was laying under Jongin for one song?" She asks and her voice is clearly sultry.

"Oh, that." You say. Jongin is still not looking at you. And Chanyeol is looking at you very intently and you feel yourself blush. "Ok, I guess?" You say with a shrug, which clearly disappoints half of the table. “I mean you dance well, Jongin, and all of that, but yeah…"

"It’s not your style?" Chanyeol supplies, both helpfully and hopefully. Jongin shrugs biting down his lip.

"Right." You feel like you are agreeing against your will, but there is nothing to be against. The broad smile that Chanyeol sports rubs you off.

"You felt nothing?" Asks Seh-something incredulously. "Whoa, that sucks, man." The last line is directed at Jongin, and your lab partner drinks the rest of his beer and stands up.

"Does anybody want another beer?" He asks and then rest of the table busies themselves with counting beer and money. Chanyeol waves your attention back to him, as he ask you to dance again. You don’t feel like sitting there anyway, so you agree and you both stand up as well.

Chanyeol takes your hand and leads you back to the dance floor. You look back, as you usually do, to check if you didn’t left anything and to wave the group goodbye. And it’s beyond cliché, but you see Jongin looking at your hand in Chanyeol’s hold.

You don’t know why. You just don’t, but you free your fingers from his hold, as if suddenly they were burning you. Your tall companion stops in his tracks to look at you, his face surprised. You massage inside of your hand with your thumb to hide your embarrassment. You don’t dare to look at Jongin again so you show Chanyeol to keep walking.

You are not having fun while dancing anymore, and excuse yourself after three songs. You feel bad as you throw the guy excuses that you are tired and you’ll need to wake up early tomorrow. You even pretend you didn’t hear his question for your number.

It’s not like you have to run or escape, but sure as hell you are.

*

That night the dark almond eyes haunted you through your dreams.

You are dreading next labs. You don’t know why, but you go through your memory of that night over and over again, definitely over analyzing what has happened. You are strung out and tired, and that makes you irritable.

This time you are first to arrive. The experiment today is easy, you are studying the shear modulus, or otherwise known as modulus of rigidity. It’s a ration of shear stress to shear strain.

_Right. You are definitely rigid, stressed and strained, all right._

The whole situation is ridiculous.

He comes in a minute before class starts. He is not wearing his glasses and his hair is styled up, the same as the night you saw him the first time.

He gracefully slides into his chair and sends you a killer smile.

You are taken aback, so you stand up and go the assistants to submit you report. By the time you are back the equipment needed for the experiment is already put together and Jongin is reading the instruction.

"What happened to glasses?" You ask, before you can stop yourself. He raises his eyes at you. Those _fucking_ eyes that haunted you from the Friday night.

The smile that appears on his face is both lazy and hopeful.

That freaks you out.

"I wear lenses, when I want to look good." He says and hands you timer. You are surprised at his honesty. You feel that he is saying the truth, because you can feel the sincere tones in his voice.

"Who do you want to look good for?" You ask in a playful tone, and as soon as the words leave your mouth you feel like dying and you’d give anything to take that back. Why. Why your mouth works before you think. Why it thinks that it can go around flirting with strippers.

Jongins hands still at the bottom ring of the equipment. He looks as surprised as you feel. But he soon smiles at you.

"Time 30 periods." He says turning the ring. The thing starts to oscillate and you are forced to focus on the experiment. But when Jongin starts to count the turns aloud your eyes instinctively follow his mouth and only distressed waving of his arms sends you back into reality two turns before you have to stop the timer.

You are embarrassed as you write down the time and you can feel the table shaking slightly as he laughs at you.

"Do you want me to time?" He asks with a glint in his eyes.

"No, I will manage." You say and you stay true to your word and try to focus on the counting. You successfully end the timing and write it down.

As you prepare for the next measurement, he reels you up.

"So how was my report?"

"You mean your part of the report?" You correct him and start the timer. "With my editing and concluding skills, pretty good."

He laughs and his hand starts to tap on the table. You swat it away, afraid that it will disturb the measurement.

The labs go mostly like that. You are still feeling uptight, but the repetitive process lulls you to the more comfortable mental state. You end your experiment in time and like never you go out together.

It’s weird to walk with Jongin, shoulder to shoulder, but you don’t complain. It’s nice actually. You dare to send him a quick glance under your eyelashes and you see him biting the inside of his cheek.

And as you reach the intersection, he stops you with a hand on your arm, and you look at it questioningly. He immediately takes his hand back, and clears his throat. You think that he was biting inside of his cheek, because he was debating with himself the thing he is going to say to you right now. To make him feel more at ease, you turn to him, giving the guy your whole attention.

The truth is, right now, you really need to hear what he wants to tell you. 

He runs a hand through his hair and you notice that he messes up his perfectly made hairdo.

"My dance…" You hear him say and the air seems to escape you. Out of everything he may have asked you, he wants to inquire you about his crushed pride? "Was it really just _ok_?"

You feel annoyance raising in your bones.

"Well, as I said it was not really my thing, so yes, it was ok." You say, irked that the irritation in your voice is clearly audible. Because if you hear it, it’s obvious he will hear that as well.

"Right." He says, as he moves the weight of his body from one leg to another. His fidgeting stirs hope in you that he is not finished yet and you wait for him to follow. "Right. Well… I’m sorry, but…"

At this rate you’ll grow old before he spills what he tries to tell you.

"Yes?" You prompt him.

"I’m sorry, but Chanyeol asked me for your number, and I don’t have it so…"

Perfect. _Fucking_ perfect. He tries to be a good wingmen. _Fabulous_. You stop listening to him and drown in self pity. Two sleepless night seem so stupid right now. You've imagined the fact that he might be, may be, interested in you. You want to slap yourself.

"… but if you don’t want to…"

"Yeah." You stop him in the middle of the sentence. You don’t want to sound rude. _Who are you kidding_. You damned well want to sound rude. "Yeah, I’m sorry, but if I wanted to give him my number I would have. So there is that."

And you don’t wait for a reaction, you just walk away. No point in listening to him trying to get your number for his friend, is there?  God, you are so stupid. Seeing things that are not here. And on top of that, a stripper? Really? The guy that sells his body? Have same self dignity.

There is a tap on your shoulder. You were so deep in self annoyance, that you didn’t hear him running after you.

"It’s a lunch break, would you like to eat with me?" He asks, without usual pauses. He looks at you shy and hopeful.

_…what?_

This time you really don’t want to be rude, but you are stunned into silence. His chest is heaving a little, but second after second his face falls. He shifts his weight from one leg to another once again, and stuffs his hands into his pockets and shrugs, but you can see how much it costs him.

"Anyway, I’ll send you the calculations by Saturday." His face is dark as he moves to walk away. That wakes you up from your stupor.

"The cafeteria is the other way." You say reaching out with your hand as if you wanted to physically stop him. There is no need, since he turns back to you, and you feel the surge of amusement, because he looks like a happy puppy.

And you are pleased you are the reason for that.

You don’t say anything more and make your way towards the cafeteria. His long legs fall into place with yours and together you cross the building.

You cafeteria is like any other cafeteria. Rows of tables, food to choose from, rowdy and noisy students separating themselves from the quiet ones. It’s not really romantic location, but it’s not like you know exactly where is it going, or if he is interested in you romantically, and actually you know nothing. Just like Jon Snow.

So better not to rush or overanalyze (easy to say to a scientific major) and just enjoy the handsome company.

At that thought you look up, trying to be discreet, at Jongin and he is very focused on the menu. Too focused for your liking and your ego. But you see him squinting and you smile when a sudden thought hits you.

"So…" He snaps his head to you, and for a moment you are lost in his dark eyes, but the need to tease him is strong. "You said back in the lab, that you wear lenses, when you want to look good, right?"

He nods, clearly waiting for a follow up.

"But you are not wearing them right now, are you?" You ask, smug. The tips of his ears redden.

"Yeah, I forgot about the lenses and went out with my glasses on instead."  
  
He doesn’t say that he took them off before the lab. He doesn’t need to, and you try your hardest to contain your growing smile.

Make a room for a growing ego.

You don’t push him anymore, and you turn away to take a tray, allowing yourself to show a delight with a broad smile. When you look up you see the mirror on the quadratic column, probably a decoration, and in the reflection you can see Jongin, sporting equally broad smile, looking at your back. Unfortunately your eyes lock in the mirror and both of you blush, while looking away.

It’s getting pretty ridiculous.

He offers to pay for you at the cash register, but you don’t let him. Firstly: it’s not like it’s a date, secondly: you know you are being absurd, but you don’t know where his bill where before, and you can’t really trust them.

You sit at the first free table, in the back of the cafeteria. You were thinking that the conversation would be awkward, maybe even you wanted it to be awkward. But it wasn’t. Jongin wanted to know your opinion about gravitational waves and you allowed yourself to be sucked into physics’ babble. It was great to be finally able to discuss that amazing discovery with someone matching your knowledge. Not having to explain everything on every step along the way was extremely exhilarating. And on top of that the worthy interlocutor was dashingly handsome.

Intelligent conversations with beautiful man are on top of your favorite pastimes. Even if it’s the first time something like that happens.

Again you walk out together. And now, finally, you feel the awkward feeling creeping up your spine.

He turns to you and says:

“If I swear I won’t give it to Chanyeol, would you give me your number?” You laugh and reach into your bag. You live in the digital age, both of have your phones on you, but it doesn’t matter. You always wanted to this, so you will.

You take out the eyebrow pencil – the first thing that you've found in your bag, and take Jongin’s hand.  You roll up his sleeve and write down your number on the inside of his arm.

When you look up, he is grinning.

*

The first message comes in around 5pm. You are still at the university, listening to your last lecture this day, and the unexpected vibration makes your heart skip a beat. You scramble to pick your phone up, to make sure that it won’t vibrate again on the wooden desk.

When you see the unknown sender, you just hope that it would be Jongin and not some spam or something like that. And to your utter glee, it is Jongin.

The message is not special, but not ordinary either. He greets you, of course, but then goes on to try to prove you that during your earlier discussion about gravitational waves one of your theories was wrong.

It is so unexpected that you immediately started typing away trying to make sure that he knows that he is wrong. Discussion that breaks out lasts the whole lecture.

It’s only after you go back to dorms and sit down to homework, in comes the message:

“Wanna meet up?”

“Now?” You ask, your heart once again skipping a beat.

“Why not? 20min, main building?”

“K”

And just like that you are on your feet, wardrobe open, clothes flying, cosmetics scattered on your desk. The anticipation makes it nearly impossible to do makeup, but finally you are more or less ready for the meet up.

It’s a date, isn’t it? Right? It is a date?

Your step is light and there are metaphorical butterflies in your gut as you approach the main building (few minutes late, but not enough for him to call).

There he is. Tall and as handsome as always. His hair is styled up, his glasses are gone, and the knowledge that he wants to look good for you is extremely satisfying.  

And your mind supplies _only for you_. But you try to kill this notion before it even starts.

When he smiles at you, his whole face brighten and it’s a honest, broad grin that reach his eyes. The delight you see in his face is contagious. Or you tell yourself that, because your own face lights up.

"Hi." There is a residue of shyness in his voice and suddenly you feel brave, and you answer with a quick peck on his cheek. You didn’t think that it was possible, but his smile gets even broader and you are minutely distracted by his perfect teeth.  "Where do you want to go?"

"Oh… Coffee maybe?" You say, even though you don’t really drink coffee. It’s just the first thing that comes to your mind, and from all the dramas you’ve seen, and all the movies that are considered romantic, you see coffee shops as a good place for a date.

It is a date, right?

He doesn’t answer and takes your hand as he starts walking. His hand is bigger than yours and his fingers are longer, and you try to stop your heart from somersaulting in your chest. You feel hot, but happy.

It’s as  if your whole being has been reduced to nerves in your hand. You can’t help it, but you can only focus of the feel of his palm on yours, and you are thankful that he doesn’t speak to you, because right now you wouldn’t make an interesting interlocutor.

You reach campus’ coffee shop and he opens the door for you.  You nearly swoon right there, but when he takes your hand again and leads you to the counter, you are positively charmed. He looks at you with a warm, loving smile, when he asks you what do you want.

He pays for you and this time you have nothing against it. As you wait for your order, you want to find a table for you to sit, and you turn around to inform Jongin about your plans and he nods in agreement.

But when you try to walk away, he grabs your hand and doesn’t let you. You look at him, expecting something important, but he just smirks and entwines your fingers. So you stay with him, intoxicated with feelings of warmth and happiness.

He walks you back to your dormitory. You talk the whole time, and you are surprised that you don’t run out of subjects to chat about. And you like walking with him, seeing how people look at both of you, and you just know that they assume that you are a pair, and you find that you like that notion.

When you reach the building you don’t want to go in. You have to prepare for the next day, and you still have your reading waiting for you, but you don’t feel like you need to go in.

And Jongin is not leaving, either. You stay there, few meters from your front door, hand in hand, just talking. His thumb is drawing little circles on your wrist and you can’t seem stop looking into his eyes.  

Because of your insistent gawking, you see the exact moment, in which he decides to kiss you.

And you don’t move away.

The first tentative touch of his lips on your mouth is a strangely freeing sensation. You don’t need to be embarrassed or unsure anymore. He kissed you, sealing the deal, notion that he wants you.

You reach up with your free hand and rest it on his nape. But only when you feel the wet touch of his tongue on your lower lip, you use your hand to bring him closer. He licks into your mouth and you instinctively try to get as close to him as possible. You climb up on your toes and because of your eagerness you loose your balance.

He stumbles back and you have to break the kiss, and you use your hand still in his hold to steady him. But he just laughs, loud and cheerful sound fills your ears, and he yanks your arm, making sure that you’ll fall straight into his arms. Being in his arms is just comfortable and you decide that his embrace will become your favorite place.

He holds you close and, again,  neither of you wants to let go. Your mouth is swollen and tingling, and you fight the urge to feel your lips with your fingers.   
For sure, you’ll do it later.

There is a touch on your hair and you hear a faint sound of inhale, and you assume  that he just smelled your hair. You like that thought.

"You go girl! High time you got some!" It’s mortifying to hear your friend yell like that and you just flip her off without looking. You can hear the muffled guffaw and the slam of doors.

"God, I’m sorry." You mumble into his collarbone.

"At least you got some." He answers and you slap his arm as he laughs. He doesn’t stop laughing so you force yourself free out of his arms, not happy with his amusement. He caresses your hair and brings your head up a little to give you a peck.

You swoon.

"Go." He says nodding his head in the direction of your front door. You are undecided and he laughs again, clearly not able to contain his own happiness.  
So you go, every fiber of your body wanting you to stay, and you look back more times than you’d like to admit.

When you finally reach your bedroom, you fall on your bed and lay petrified. It takes you about 5minutes before you move again. You grab your pillow, hug it and start yelling and rolling around on the bed, using the pillow to muffle your screams.

You are going nuts.

And to amplify your embarrassment your friends find you in this state.

"This good?" The kinky one asks.

"Where have you found him?"

"Gods his a _ss_!"

"How did you manage to hide him?"

"That’s why you didn’t go out to the strip show with us! You got your own stripper, now!"

This is _mortifying._

You stare at your friends in horror. How do they know?

Only when they burst into a earthy laughter you realize that they were joking, not implying that Jongin is a stripper.

So you let yourself relax and you go full teenage mode – gushing about your boyfriend (he is your boyfriend now, isn’t he?)

*

You wake up to _have a good day~_ text and you just know that this day will be good.

It’s not as good as you imagined it to be. At least until your last lecture. You spent the whole day waiting for a text that didn’t come or trying to catch his head in the crowd. But you didn’t. So by 5pm you were strung-out and not happy with life.

_Not at all._

That’s why you nearly miss him, when you leave the building. But he is there, leaning on the tree, glasses on, but he looks just perfect.

You feel cliché and stupid, but you do run to him. It’s dramatic, overdramatic, yet it feels so right when you fall into his open arms. He seems like he missed you equally much as his embrace is nearly strangling.

Its weird being this attached to a person you know less than two months, which used to stir certain uncertainty and discomfort two weeks ago. But now you can’t see why you were so distrustful of him. You know that you are being irrational and probably (certainly) high on hormones. You have a definitive crush on him and your body responds accordingly. You are a scientist in training, you know how it works.

The fact that you spent a whole day looking for him is a fault of dopamine, the brain’s pleasure chemical. When one falls in love, dopamine is released, making one feel elated about that special other. It triggers very goal oriented behavior – with a goal being your loved one.

The need to touch Jongin, which you fulfill at this exact moment, comes from the release of the oxytocin, a chemical that bonds couples together by prompting intimacy.

He even his scent makes your knees go weak. He smells of detergent, cologne and underneath you can smell musky and earthy scent of someone healthy and fit. And you like it. You like his smell and you know that this is you MHC genes speaking. MHC genes are responsible for producing molecules that enable the immune system to recognize the invaders. It is known that the more diverse the MHC genes of the parents are, the stronger immune system of the offspring. The MHC influences body odor and body odor preferences in human. So translating it to human: the better the guys smells for you, the more different his MHC genes are from yours, and thus the better chance for a healthy child.

You will not think of Jongin in terms of _good genes donor_. _You will not._

"How was your day?" You mumble into his shoulder.

"Now it’s perfect. The line is cheesy, corny and hackneyed, and while watching romantic comedy, you’d groan – but now you nearly melt.

Why does chemical changes in your brain lead to this level of stupidity? Thank god, you are not alone in this madness. Jongin is as deep in this shit as you, judging from the broad smile he sports.

"I have to calculate the results of our latest experiment and I thought we could do it together?" Even though the phrasing is definitely informing the tone is asking. You try to digest the butterflies in your stomach.

"Oh, now, you want me to do even more? Not happening." You tease him and take his hand as a counter point to your words.

He laughs. You are getting addicted to the sound.

"Well, no, you could do your homework, or whatever, but I couldn’t bear the thought of not seeing you today." Yup, you are definitely swooning, now. You don’t answer verbally, but you climb up on your toes and try to peck his lips. The peck does happen, but Jongin grabs his chance and deepens the kiss. It takes you a while before you can distance yourself far enough to speak. He rests his forehead on yours and rasps:

"So where should we take it?" Your knees go weak and you feel a surge of arousal. "You do have lectorium at your dorms?"

Oh, _right._

"Yeah." You say, but the image of your friends swooning over the strip show’s poster stops you in your track. "Oh, it may be a bad idea. What about your dorm?"

He scratches his head.

"Well, I live outside the campus. With the guys."

_With the guys._ Right. Chanyeol. _Right_. You don’t really fancy meeting him again. But something tells you that one day you will.

So you end up in the study room in the library. You got lucky and booked one of those fancy closet like rooms for individual study. Jongin got additional chair and you spent next few hours being model students. You are sitting in front of each other so it’s easy to steal quick glances at the other person. And neither of you is too shy to take advantage of this. So every now and then you catch him staring at you. He smiles and goes back to his calculations.

It’s amusing to watch him work. You should be writing your cosmology essay and instead you focus on the way he ruffles his hair, when he is frustrated or how he rests his chin on his hand when the result is clearly wrong and he can’t find mistake.

You don’t know when, but you start chatting. It’s easy and comfortable, and both of you spill all of your beans without even registering that fact.  
He is the first to notice that.

"Chemical reaction to having a crush is no joke." He says after telling you quite embarrassing story from his childhood. You feel your heart growing in your chest at this blatant confession of his feelings for you. And the fact that he thinks about hormones changing one’s behavior while being in love, makes you go all out with your knowledge about human hormones.

You go through dopamine, oxytocin, but also you talk about the smell, MHC, the stress hormones, but he doesn’t stop you and listens intently and you feel appreciated.

When you start talking about the testosterone, how, despite being considered by the public a strictly male hormone, the _macho hormone_ , it can help stroking fire in both sexes, Jongin eyes squint a little.

"So, men trace amount of testosterone in their saliva. Since with a kiss man and woman exchange saliva, the theory says that the spike of testosterone that comes from male saliva can arouse female.

"So…" The smile that Jongin sports is definitely lewd. "Do you want me to rise your testosterone levels?"

*

The question is left unanswered for days. The days of meeting up and being next to each other or making out, or whatever, but it’s clear that your amygdale is working.

Amygdale is a nut sized part of your brain – it’s common for all mammals and supposedly it’s one of the first brain parts to evolve. But what amygdale is responsive for? It performs primary role in one’s decision-making and emotional reactions. It plays an important role in survival – this is the part of your brain that makes you snap your hand back, when you burn yourself or the one that recognizes danger.

Ok, you know that. You know. But the fact stands, the amygdale is responsible for your sexual drive. It’s the thing that makes you think about taking Mike to bed every time you see the Magic Mike.

It’s the thing that makes you think about the first night you met him, every time Jongin smiles at you. You have become a campus couple, the one that cannot breath without the partner’s hand in yours. You sometimes think that it’s too much, but then you see Jongin waiting for you outside the aula and you just can’t wait to get your hands on him.

But.

But you can’t wait to literally get your hands on him. It’s always in the back of your head, a constant itch you can’t scratch. How would his skin feel under your hands. Would he roll his hips while fucking into you?

You hide your face in your hands, feeling the burning of your cheeks. You can’t function like that. But at the same time, it’s not like you can go to him bluntly say: ‘I’m horny, let’s have sex.’

But you are tempted.

Every time you make out and his hands sneak under your shirt and caresses your skin, you feel hot and you let yourself hope. But his hands never travel up.  
For a stripper he is very gentleman-like.

And you know that you should talk to him about this problem. Because it should not be a problem, and he probably waits for you to give him some kind of sign. It’s not like he doesn’t want you, right?

Right?

And you are a scientist in training. The key to a successful group work is communication. There is no room for guessing, no room for hoping the partner will know. You just have to say it straightforwardly. That is the best way. The only right way. The best shortcut you can take.

That’s why for the next labs you wear the most provocative clothes you have in your arsenal.

You know it shouldn’t work like that. You know, but how can you start the conversation about sex? How? So you refer back to old tricks in the book, and even if you are annoyed with yourself, you are not going to back down.

The look, he shoots you, is both fulfilling and embarrassing. The whole time he is definitely clumsy, bothered and not exactly coherent, which is a total pain in the ass, because you are doing experiment with pendulum and it involves a lot of counting. He messes up the counter often enough for you to grow irritated and the number of times you need to redo the measurement is terrifying. It’s an easy experiment, but suddenly seems like never-ending story.

You try to remember that the fact he is so flustered is a compliment to you, but you are so angry at yourself that you couldn’t muster enough courage to just speak with him. And now you are both suffering.

You got your first report back. As you suspected it’s not up to assistant standards, so you’ll have to correct it. You are the one to take the report, but it doesn’t matter, you started writing reports together.

You are relieved, when you walk out of the laboratory, skirt brushing the back of your thighs. You want to forget the horrible few hours you just spent there, but the lukewarm breeze on your bare legs keeps reminding you of it.

You don’t even wait for Jongin, you just storm out of there.

But life is not that easy and you don’t get to escape. It’s hard to run away from a person with legs longer than you. His hand clamps around your wrist and he yanks you back. You turn around with the force acted upon you and you look at him. His expression is hurried and worried at the same time.

"I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t want to scare you!" He says urgently and you just shrink in yourself. Now he thinks it’s his fault. "It’s just, you are looking so beautiful and I couldn’t stop staring at you, I’m sorry."

"Why are you apologizing for that!" You may be uncomfortable, but he still manages to make you smile and you just feel beautiful, when he looks at you.

"Because you have just tried to escape, because of my behavior during the labs. It means your amygdale recognized the danger and turned on the escape mechanism."

It’s hard. Dating a scientist. It’s just hard.

"I’m sorry, it’s not like I can control it. Male amygdales show increased activity during the processing of the affective images  in comparison to female’s. I just couldn’t stop thinking about you…" He stops there and you realize that he doesn’t continue out of frustration. Looking at his face you see that he wants to explain you the whole process, but he doesn’t want to mention the intercourse part. You feel warmth creeping up your spine.

You look around you, but there is no soul around and you decide to be brave. It can’t get any more embarrassing.

"About me naked?" You ask biting your lip. It’s half of nervousness and half of amusement at his suddenly red face.

"Yeah, I’m sorry, it’s just…" But you don’t let him suffer and just cut it:

"I don’t mind."

"You don’t?" He asks surprised, but his body is accepting the knowledge. He visibly relaxes and smiles at you brightly.  Just like that all the tension between you is gone (at least it seems like that) and he throws his arm around your shoulder and starts walking you to the doors. You snuggle up to him and match his step. "Then I’m going to think about you a lot."

You roll your eyes and jab your fingers into his side. You are relieved, but the main problem is still there. You are still afraid to mention the elephant in the room.

"What are you doing today?" He asks his voice calm, but you are the point where you can tell whether he is nervous about something.

"I guess I’m doing something with you?" You say straightening your skirt.

"Actually I wanted to practice today and I was wondering if you’d like to come with me." The word _practice_ catches your attention and your heart immediately speeds up. The image of his half naked body sliding on top of you fills your mind. There is no chance in hell that you are going to miss it. But when you answer you try not to sound too eager.

"I can."

*

As always he waits for you in front of the building, leaning against the tree. This time, however, he has a sports bag with your university logo (which you find kind of ironic, that he uses this bag to carry his stripper’s gear around) and he is toying with a bunch of keys. The greeting kiss you get is more urgent than usual, his hands on your jaw to get your face exactly where he wants. You feel this kiss in your toes, the neurons relaying the electric jolt down your body.

As it turns out, he practices just outside the campus. The dance studio is hidden in a quite obscure building, but the inside is more welcoming than you thought it would be.

He walks past the reception and you get just a quick glance at the people there. You think you see the girls you met that night at the club, but you can’t be sure.

The practice room is just like any other. Mirrors, wooden panels, speakers. You walk slowly to the center of the room, and you hear Jongin throw the bag on the ground. When you look back at him he has his top in his hand and is bending over searching for something in his bag.

You are gone. The dark skin is inviting and you feel your mouth water. He must have found the thing he was searching for, because he straightens up slowly, muscles in his back contracting around his spine and your mind is blank.

He throws his shirt on the bag and puts on the grey tank top he pulled out of the bag. You think that maybe you shouldn’t gawk like that, but he is not commenting on your hungry stare, so you just yourself enjoy.

You do, however, turn your eyes away when he changes his pants. But mostly because you will lose the rest of your self control.

"You know that I will need a audience to practice, right?" He asks and it is clearly a preface to another question and you think you know what the question will be.  
"I will be your horny girl, tonight." You answer in amused voice. It’s only after he snaps his head at you, you realize how that sounded.

"Right." He says. His own voice is a little bit hoarse and he clears his throat. "I need to warm up a little and we can start."

You watch him warm up and stretch and the fact stands: Jongin’s body is a thing of beauty. The way he moves is amazing and every second reminds you of that first night he used you as his prop during strip performance.

By the time he deems he is sufficiently warmed up his skin is covered in sweat and you are getting hot under your collar. He walks to you with a broad smile, his hips swaggering, eyes squinted. You take the offered hand with a smile and you can feel your excitement growing. He leads you to the center of the room and leaves you there to retrieve chair.

You take a sit and Jongin walks off to put the music on.

You just know it’s going to be magical.

*

The beat is heavy. It’s making the speakers shake, the vibration is sent across the room in a steady waves. The sinusoidal sound makes your eardrums pulse rhythmically and your body responds with a slight rocking.

The air in the room is musky and dense. This area has smelled dozens of bodies every day, the floor drinks hectoliters of sweat every week. It’s not aired sufficiently and you are already getting sweaty and uncomfortable.

But Jongin asked you a favor and you are not going back on your word, because the room is not comfortable enough. You look up at the mirror in front of you: you are sitting in the middle of the dance studio, the chair under you old and tattered. The wooden floor is darkened from the years of use, but at least the stereo is new.

The movement catches your eye, it’s Jongin. He walks to you, slowly, savoring every step, foot put on the ground in rhythm. His hips are swaggering and his eyes are dark. You realize that he is already horny and it shows in his eyes. They are naturally dark, but the slight cease between his eyebrows and the wrinkles in the corners of his eyes show you that in fact he is aroused. And he is walking to his prey.

It’s an amazing feeling – being that wanted, but you can’t brush an ugly thought away: how many girls feel this way when he walks to them while working?  
Just as the beat drops he puts his hand on your arm and you see the perfect wave his reflection does. It goes straight to your amygdale, which awakes sexual desire.

He is wearing a grey tank top, loosely hanging on his frame, low neckline showing golden expanse of skin already glazed over. His legs are clothed in the skintight leather pants, and you decide that they should be illegal. The way the leather clings to muscled thighs is so sensual, you feel the dampening of your panties.

He lets his feet slide on the floor as he does another wave, one hand on the back of your chair, the other on the edge of the seat, fingers creeping under your leg. The closeness makes your hair raise. By now he is dry humping your side, with narrow sheet of air between your bodies.

So close yet so far.

He breaks the barrier with his mouth, the slow drag of his lower lip on your pulsing artery makes your breath hitch. He reaches your ear and he moans, low. Your pelvic floor muscles cramp and your fingers dig into the wooden seat. You don’t know if you are allowed to touch him.

But he has already moved away. Now he is in front on you, legs splayed his bulge straining his pants. He accentuates it with his hands and precise thrusts.  
You are salivating.

He suddenly drops to his knees and slides forward. You do squeak in surprise and his self-satisfied grin is the last thing you see, before he hides his face between your legs. His hot breath on your clothed crotch is electrifying. You suddenly want to get him naked. And get naked yourself.

You can see in his eyes that he knows that as he travels up your body, hot breath fanning you through your clothes.

Oh, how much do you hate those fabrics!

He finally stands up, the legs splayed on both sides of your knees, and he is rocking his hips, close enough for you to feel the movements of the air, but not enough to touch. His hands are seeking support on the back of your chair, but as he sees that your breast are heaving from the shaken breaths you take, he grabs your pony tail and he yanks your head to the side.

The loud moan you emit is embarrassing. Jongin seems to be enjoying himself as his mouth find your pulse point and sharp teeth try to break your skin. You finally decide to touch him, your hand feeling the soft locks, wet from his sweat  at the roots.

At that he moves back a little, and swaying his hips he grabs your wrists. He pulls your hands out of his hair, and you are ready to whine in loss, as you suspect no touching is allowed.

But he kisses your left palm and keeping it close to his mouth he takes your right and places it on his collarbone, his own left hand covering your smaller one. You feel the smooth movement of his chest as he works his body wave after wave. You can feel the heat snake up your spine.

But then his hand moves down, taking yours for a journey. He makes you caress his chest, slide down the abdominal muscles, catch on the navel and then down, to line of his pants. As the base of your palm reaches his cock, he kisses your other hand again.

This wakes you and you force yourself to look up, away from the sinful body, he smirks at you.

"Shall we take another step?"

You swoon, when he takes off his top.

You do your best to keep your brain from melting into your spine, when you see his abdominal muscles. It’s not the first time, but now you definitely want to be here and you want to see them. (And touch them and eventually lick them, and bite them, and just mark them as yours.)

And the best thing is: when you look up (not without a fight – his golden abdomen is definitely mangetic) he looks down at you, his hips swaying, and when he notices that your full attention is focused on his face, he pushes his hips in your direction and your hand finally slides down. The leather is surprisingly soft under your fingers, but his cock is obviously there. You feel the heat and the girth, and you need oxygen, because you are getting dizzy. He rolls his hips into your hand and you glance at his face, his eyes flutter close and his mouth is barely open. His face is so sensual that you don’t hesitate. You can’t contain your need anymore.

Nor you want to.

You cup his penis with your hand and his eyes snap open. You lock your eyes with him when he rolls his hips again. And again. His stare is intense and you feel the skin of your head tingling. You strive to touch his skin, and you decide to indulge yourself, your other hand coming up to rest on his side. Again he covers your hand with his and leads it to discover his body. The skin is so soft under your palm, and so hot that your fingertips seem to be burning.

The row upon row of abdominal muscles is a gift to humanity. Firm muscle, defined shape, tissue nearly bursting the dark skin. You can feel the faint hairs under your hand and you follow them where they are getting thicker – you do hope that the happy trail will turn out to be equally happy for you. Jongin doesn’t need to lead you anymore. You know where you want to go, what you want to discover, and you don’t fret. Your hand slides down and your forefinger hook on the waist of his leather pants.

You look up again, as you slowly drag the waist of his pants away from his body. Jongin chest is heaving, and blush is tinting his cheeks. You know it’s not embarrassment. It’s arousal.

The need in his voice is nearly palpable. You can just taste it and it goes straight to your core.

"Just tell me that you are sure." He pleads. He is still rolling his hips, but the movement is urgent and not as seducing as earlier. You know that his testosterone levels are spiking and so is your estrogen. The vasoactive intestinal peptide, the hormone, is doubling your natural lubrication production – preparing your body for intercourse.

Your body is getting ready and your mind… Your mind is more than ready. Your mind has already decided and works to reach the goal.

"About what?"

Ok, so maybe you are ready to take detour just to spite your boyfriend.

"Damn it!" The fury in his voice is striking. You are stunned by his emotions, and your heart skips a beat. You don’t wait for him to continued, in fear that he would stop.

"Jongin, I’m sure that I want you. Right now, preferably on the horizontal surface." You lick your suddenly dry lips, and dare to flip open the button of his pants.

The needy whine that escapes Jongin’s throat makes your hair rise. He slides down and sits on your legs. He is heavier than you but you don’t care when his hands are snapping your head up and he kisses you. It’s hurried, urgent, and definitely arousing. Teeth clashing, mouths bruising, saliva flowing. You are not coherent enough to breath through your nose, so you need to move back your lungs burning. You feel the wetness around your mouth and see the glistening on Jongin’s chin.

His teeth are worrying your ear, when you try to catch a breath. Jongin’s hands are pulling your top out of your skirt and finally his hands travel up your stomach. You waited long enough to feel his calloused, coarse palms on your skin. Your eyes close, but just before you lose your vision, you see the stack of mattresses in the corner of the room.

_Horizontal surface._

"Jongin." You speak up, but he only hums, his thumbs brushing the hem of your bra.

_Oh, boy._

But you are a woman on the mission and you grab his head and you turn it forcefully to the corner where mattresses are.

"Oh." It’s quite a coherent answer for a man in his state. He stands up, and he offers you a hand. You take it suspecting what will come next.

And just as you thought, he tanks you flush against him, his clothed penis aligning with your crotch. You can feel the heat he radiates even trough the layers of your clothes.

"Ok, let me just…" He doesn’t end his sentence and he hurries away leaving you. You immediately miss his body, but you enjoy the way his ass moves as he nearly runs to his bag. He rummages through it and stands up with a small package in his hand.

You are both aroused and filled with love and warmth upon realizing that he was prepared for this moment to come. (That’s good, because you weren’t.)

He looks at you clearly undecided and you rise your eyebrow at him. It looks like he decided in the blink of an eye, because he throws you a condom with a short ‘catch’. You scramble to catch it, and you have to run a few steps to safely grab it. You laugh at the absurdity of the scene. Jongin half naked throwing you a condom and you running awkwardly to catch it.

Your boyfriend retrieves the paper towels and disinfectant form the window sill, and you watch him throw mattresses on the ground and he quickly sprays the top one with the detergent and cleans it. He works on his knees and even though your arousal subdued a little, you do appreciate the flow of his muscles below the skin.

The skin you’ll soon be digging your nails in.

He sits on the cleaned surface and looks at you. You see him appreciate your frames as his eyes slide down your silhouette. You don’t wait for his invitation, you just put your hands on your hips and make a show of walking to him. This time the brushing of the skirt on your thighs is arousing not embarrassing.  The final step puts you directly above his legs. The wonder you see in Jongin eyes is extremely gratifying. He slides his hands up your skirt and it rises the hairs in his wake.

You don’t want to wait anymore. There will be a time to appreciate, there will be time to worship his body. There will be time for him to discover all the mysteries of your skin.

But not now. Not on the mattress in the dance studio.

You take of your top and throw it away. The first reaction you get is Jongin kissing your stomach. It’s nice and comfortable, but not exactly what you are looking for. You run your fingers through his hair to show your appreciation and then you move to take off your bra. Instead of throwing it on the floor, you let it fall on Jongin’s head. He looks up, to check what happened and seeing your bare chest he freezes, your bra finally falling to the floor.

He digs his fingers into your skin and you slide down on your knees, which he promptly takes advantage of hiding his face between your breasts. His thumbs caress your skin under the hem of your panties and you roll your hips, trying get him to move.

To your surprise it works. He uses his hold on your legs to throw you on the mattress. The impact kick the air out your lungs and before you can suck in breath, he takes advantage of the music still playing and jumps on top of you, ending a movement with a full body wave on top of you.

It’s a déjà vu of your first meeting and you feel the surge of the liquids dripping on your panties. You are engulfed in mix of smells – they are not exactly pleasant: the sweat, the musky scent of the room, the disinfectant, but the smell of arousal, his skin, his cologne is enough to overcome the other scents.

But still, you are getting seriously impatient so you bring your legs up and hook them behind his back to stop his waves and to bring him flush against you. You wave the condom in front of his face.

"I need you. Like, a lot." There goes your eloquence, but again, it’s enough to get him going. He goes down on you, his hands caressing your sides. And he sends you playful look and goes under your skirt.

Literally, he lifts it and sticks his head under the fabric. Your anticipation rises and you hiccup when you feel his hot breath through your panties. And your legs twitch, when he is close enough for you to feel the moisture in his exhale. He bites the material of your panties, his teeth barely missing your labia and he slowly drags it down.

It’s hot. It’s fucking hot, it’s amazingly mindblowing and your heart beats so hard that you are worried about your health, but you are going to combust if something doesn’t happen soon.

So you just sit up and that startles Jongin. You don’t even acknowledge him – you promptly shimmer out of your panties and take of your skirt, Jongin clearly stunned into silence.

"What are you doing, take off your pants." You say to him, while you reach for the condom. That makes him move along. Quickly. Very quickly. After your words it takes him seconds to get naked and you are awarded with fully naked Jongin.

Which is an amazing achievement, but you will celebrate it later.

You open the package and without much ado, you roll it down on his penis.

"I conclude I will not be your first." He says matter-of-factly. You stop to look at him, trying to sense if he is condemning you. But it sounds just like when he informs you about experiment results during labs.

"You will be right. Afraid that you won’t satisfy me?" You ask with a hint of a challenge in your voice. He smirks and then you are flat on the mattress, your hair the aureole around your head, with Jongin’s face mere millimeters from yours.

"Honey, that is unlikely." You can’t help, but smile. He answers with an equally warm smile and just like that he aligns himself and slides into you.

Your breath hitch, but before he moves, you grab your chance to say:

"I would appreciate it, if you could rise my testosterone levels." He laughs, loudly, his whole body trembling, and you feel the vibrations inside of you. The song changes and he moves down to kiss you. You are the one to lick into his mouth, and your prediction comes true, as you dig your nail into his back.

He breaks the kiss and hisses. The first thrust is clearly a punishment for the harassment of his back, but you can’t say that you suffer.

He also can’t be fooled, as you throw your head back and moan _yes_. After that you don’t talk a lot.

But you move a lot. You are not laying down, you are not still. Your hips roll to meet Jongin’s thrusts. You trash on the bed when the feelings starts to overcome you, but the rush you feel, the pleasure, the heat overflowing your neurons is just glorious.

On top of that, the man, that is fucking you with short precise snaps of his hips alternated with voluptuous rolls, is gorgeous. Especially now, with half open, swollen lips, face red from exertion, hair matted to his forehead, dark skin shining from sweat and eyes staring intently at you.

Your pelvic floor muscles are cramping and you’d sing your praises, but you are not sure that you’ll catch your breath, less say anything. Your body rocks with the force of his thrusts, and your back is getting a burn from the constant friction on the mattress.

But the pain is adding to your arousal. That’s how the mind of a woman works. During the vaginal stimulation woman’s threshold for pain increases by 40% - which means during the sexual intercourse, women part of their ability to distinguish pain from pleasure. Both pain and pleasure stimulate the same part of their brain and the overload on your brain makes it hard to differentiate.

Your vaginal cramps are starting to get more frequent and Jongin is enough of a scientist to know what that means. He moves one of his hands to stimulate your clitoris.

The magical thing of coming together doesn’t usually happen, and this time you are the first to reach your orgasm. But when your face and all the muscles contorts in enough of a push to send Jongin over as well. He comes biting hard into your shoulder. Strong enough to break a skin and you can just moan wantonly.

It’s not a masochism. It’s a fact that just like during vaginal stimulation the pain’s threshold increases on average by 40%, near and during the orgasm it reaches the 100%. Which means during orgasm, woman can’t differentiate what is pain and what is pleasure. The sensation of pain is not dulled, that intense sensation, which normally would bring one pain, is not experienced as pain. During the orgasm the sensations producing pain are still experienced, but they are not unpleasant.

This mechanism was probably evolved to reframe the pain of childbirth, and as it sometimes happen an adaptive mechanism that evolved for procreation got assimilated for recreation.

The orgasm clears your mind. Literally. Orgasm turns off the parts of your brain responsible for: processing our fears and complexes, mistakes monitoring, knowledge of the world. There is no fear nor thinking about future, when you are sated.

You come down from your high, feeling how heavy Jongin is on top of you. But you can’t bring yourself to care as your body is flooded by combination of beta-endorphins, prolactin, and oxytocin.

Endorphins obviously are responsible for the feelings of happiness, and you can confirm you are ridiculously happy. You have finally had sex with Jongin, and it was an amazing experience.

Prolactin in case of women contributes to the sense of sexual satiety. But in mean, prolaction plays an important role in the refractory period after sex – the period when man is psychically unable to reach another orgasm.

And finally oxytocin is the ‘cuddling’ hormone associated with trust and sense of affiliation. It makes you feel connected to Jongin like never before. You are warm, happy, sated and close to the man you love.

And when he rolls over, bringing you with him, and he brushes the hairs out of your face and pecks your nose, and hugs you close to him, in this moment you know that you’d go with him even to hell.

Even if that’s only your hormones speaking.


End file.
